Robin Stone Articles »

Last week, for a whole day, my fourteen year-old son, Charlie, loathed me. He undoubtedly felt victimized and mistreated, not to mention tired and starving. He may have even felt unloved, and that was the emotion that made my heart read more »

I have problems transitioning. The end of the school year puts me in a dark mood. As the prime caretaker in our home, I love not being required to drive my sons all over the globe, pack lunches and play slave read more »

I am not a vain person; I look in the mirror because I don’t want to scare anyone. So, could I ever give up the insurance of reflective surfaces?
A couple of months ago, my friend, Jen, recounted her family’s experiences traveling read more »

I love my kids. I swear. As individuals, they are fascinating, unique creatures and I am a proud Dr. Frankenstein. But, together, during the couple of weeks before school started up again, we created an environment that was like read more »

I am a gardener – with a pinched nerve, an aching back, and knees criss-crossed with grass stains to prove it. There is dirt so deeply embedded under my fingernails, I will need a degree in archaeology to dig it all out. read more »

Harrison, my seven year-old son, and I were driving home from school last week discussing all the movies he thinks we must see immediately if not sooner. These included the final “Shrek” and “Iron Man Two”. I suggested “Robinhood” to read more »

By the time you read this, we will have had the “big day”, the twenty-four hours when mothers are recognized for our wonderful selves and celebrated for our devotion. What this really means is that we are watered and fed like read more »

Seven year-old Harrison and I have our deepest exchanges in the minutes before he falls asleep. It is then that my youngest son allows himself to be bathed in maternal kisses. It is then that it’s okay for him to read more »

On April first, my husband, Billy, and I celebrated our twenty-sixth wedding anniversary. Our kids, parents and other close relatives bestowed happy wishes and gifts. Billy made his usual observation: “not only have we been married twenty-six years, but we’ve read more »

“I’m sorry.”
For what?
“For doing that bad thing.”
Which was what??
“Whatever you said it was.”
You don’t know, do you???
“Not specifically.”
And, you’re really not sorry, are you?
“I don’t want to be grounded.”
So, you’ll say anything.
“Pretty much.”
Have you had a variation of the above conversation? read more »

My grandmother’s “Silver Queen” houseplant was dying beside my bathtub. There were more yellow leaves than the trademark green and silver, and they drooped like lettuce leaves at the bottom of an overdressed salad.
Grandma Sybil’s life ended more than fifteen years read more »

“They wouldn’t give me a new burger without the receipt, Mom. It’s ridiculous!”
I had sent my almost fourteen year-old, Charlie, to our local fast-food restaurant to exchange the burger I brought home for seven year-old Harrison’s supper. It was slathered in read more »

This March, we are taking a break from our regular life. My kids will leave school and I will forgo this column I write for a couple of weeks. My daytime job, that of mother/diplomat/caretaker/insane asylum out-patient, will travel read more »

“Jason told me that if you step on a sidewalk crack, something really bad will happen to someone in your family.”
My seven year-old son, Harrison, and I were negotiating our way down the street, already late for his hair-cut. Our walk was read more »

It was a Saturday morning in mid-February, and both my sons had the pallor of vampires and the energy levels of sloths. Charlie and Harrison had been fine all week at school, but this weekend morning they woke up sick. read more »

“The kid ordered toast, not a bagel” snapped the unsavory server, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling.
“No. My son ordered a rye bagel” I said, tightly. We had endured this woman’s rudeness for the entire visit to our usual read more »

Thank you. How many times each day do we say these words or encourage our children to say them? The sales clerk gives you change and a receipt. Thank you. A young woman waits and holds open the read more »

During the December break, we convince ourselves to have a wonderful time even if it kills us. Worries about money, careers, grades and weight are tucked away in a mental safe which can’t be penetrated for a full two weeks. The padding read more »

Charlie and I saw eye to eye for exactly six days this past September.
But, instead of the seventh day being a day of rest the way it is in Genesis, for my thirteen year-old son it was a day of growth the read more »

Is it just me?
Or do thoughts of the forthcoming holiday break make you feel slightly queasy from too much anticipated ground turbulence in your house?
I’m aware that this time of year is supposed to bring out my inner Mother Theresa. I should read more »

Is it just me?
Or are you ever so agitated about an event, person or specific justice-challenged situation that you feel compelled to mutter about it in public? Do these grumblings ever grow in volume and clarity to the point at which read more »

Hunched over the kitchen table with his shoulders glued to his ear-lobes, my seven year-old son, Harrison, dug for dinosaur fossils in a clay block that he’d received as a birthday party present. For three hours, I’d been inhaling red dust read more »

“Jack was so mean to me. I HATE Grade One!”
“What happened?” I asked. My son, Harrison, and I were walking to the corner for hot chocolate after school. Well, I was walking and he was stomping.
“Jack told me I read more »

Driving Charlie and Harrison home from school, I felt my patience splintering like a wooden spoon in a fresh carton of ice cream.
“You guys know the rules”, I said. “You can’t say a body part in public if it’s not one read more »

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Disclaimer

Please remember that the advice given on this blog is not meant to replace medical advice or the direct advice of a mental health care professional.

"Connected Parenting advises us not just how to parent, but—far more important—who to be as parents. The therapeutic methods suggested by Jennifer Kolari are based not on simple-minded behavioural solutions, but on building warm, nurturing relationships with our children, with insight and compassion not only for their little flaws, but also for our own larger ones." —Gabor Maté, M.D.

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